


Flamin' Mamie

by Mindwiped, TellMeNoAgain



Series: Kitten Licks: The Side Stories from the Roaring Hot AU [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Noir, Dark Harley, Dark Tony, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Instability, Miscarriage, Mob Boss Tony Stark, Mob Type Violence, Multi, Period Typical Attitudes, Period Typical Language, Polyamory, dark bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindwiped/pseuds/Mindwiped, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: Here's a Harley-centric story written by Mindwiped and beta'd by me in the Roaring Hot AU.Mindwiped is going to try to tell you I helped and should be a co-author but folks, all I did was lend her a universe, flip the tables to try my hand as a beta, and add some frills.  This precious baby belongs to Mindwiped.You don't have to read it to read Roaring Hot and CHECK THEM WARNINGS, FOLKS~~~"Ok, any 'o yous that wear shoes smaller'n a size ten, Boss needs to borrow 'em," Happy hustles into the kitchen and announces.Darcy just pushes her chair back from the table, shoves a bite of toast in her mouth, unlaces them and asks, "Where do you want them, Hap?"
Relationships: Ana Jarvis/Edwin Jarvis, Ana Jarvis/Edwin Jarvis/FRIDAY, Harley Keener/Original Female Character, Harley Keener/Original Male Character, Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, Original Female Characters/Original Female Characters, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Kitten Licks: The Side Stories from the Roaring Hot AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605271
Comments: 17
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mindwiped](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindwiped/gifts).



> From Mindwiped:
> 
> First, thank you for letting me play with your 'verse TellMeNoAgain. This whole thing started in email while editing, I wrote, "Ok, now I kinda want to write a belowstairs snippet of the shoes scene and imply that everybody on staff is gettin' it on. Are you trying to seduce me to the Devilside?" I was offered cookies, booze, and enabled... I mean encouraged. We hatched so many plot bunnies and head cannon. 
> 
> Below I'm putting in the "standard disclaimer" used by Boss for works within 'Roaring Hot'. In addition to the regular dark fic warnings, I want people to know that there's reference to abuse of a teenage child causing a miscarriage to occur. If this will cause you any sort of mental difficulties, please skip this. It's not important to the main storyline's plot, but I chased a White Rabbit, and now I'm in Wonderland. 
> 
> Standard Disclaimer  
> "If you've read darkfic before, proceed, mine is pretty tame so far (later chapters may get worse).
> 
> If you HAVEN'T read darkfic, let's have a quick chat about the genre. Darkfics are full of dubious consent, even abuse. This one will skirt the edges of that second option. There will be dubiously consentful sex, which you will be able to interpret either direction, your choice. There will be period-appropriate racism, sexism, all kinds of -ism. There will be prostitution and drugs and a bunch of violence, including strong corporal punishment and what looks like domestic abuse to me. It's hard to say, because the victim sure seems fine with it, but it also might be some heavy gaslighting. Because I know underage squicks so many people, Peter will be of age when the sex starts, but that doesn't mean that the characters aren't going to mess with him (and turning 18 is not a magic wand for sexual relationships to be healthy). Darkfic is fun because it's not reality and it can let you have some nervous experiences without actually being endangered. Please proceed with your comfort level."
> 
> From TellMeNoAgain: BUCKLE UP. WE'RE GOING BELOWSTAIRS.

"Ok, any 'o yous that wear shoes smaller'n a size ten, Boss needs to borrow 'em," Happy hustles into the kitchen and announces. 

Darcy just pushes her chair back from the table, shoves a bite of toast in her mouth, unlaces them and asks, "Where do you want them, Hap?"

Karen and Mrs. Friday start removing theirs too, as Mamie comes up from the laundry with a basket of sheets. 

He grabs the basket and dumps the sheets on the kitchen floor. "Put 'em in here," he says and sets the basket on the table. "Ana, grab everybody. If they wear shoes smaller'n Harleycat, they go in the basket."

"What in the world! It's not like you do any'a the laundry around here," Mamie wails.

"Boss is takin' the new boy for ice cream. If'n you wanna keep this job, shut your trap Mamie," he says gruffly. "Otherwise, pack up. Move back home with your ma, and try to find a job without papers."

"You want my shoes now, or can I go get the stableboys' first?" she asks meekly. 

"As long as I get them quick I don't care if you go grab'em in the buff," he growls. He means it, too, if there’s one thing about Happy everyone knows, it’s that he never cares, no matter how crazy everything gets in the Boss’s service, as long as things get done right and on time, he doesn’t care if the whole staff is standing in a handbasket bound for hell while they get it done.

"You take yours off," Ana says. "I'll get the stableboys' shoes." She gets up to head to the door, and pushes Mamie into the chair she just vacated. 

"I'm on it Ma'am," Danny offers. "My shoes are a size ten, I'll be quicker'n you barefoot." He hustles out the kitchen door and takes off running. 

"Leonard! Shoes now," Mrs. Friday demands. "Don't even try to tell me those are size ten." Leonard toes them off indignantly.

Shortly, they’re prepared to send Happy back above stairs with a baker's dozen shoes. 

"I'll return 'em quick as I can," Happy says as he hustles out the door. 

"What're we supposed'ta do now? It's not gonna be easy dealin’ with the laundry barefoot," Mamie whines. 

"It's not like you didn't run about barefoot for the first sixteen years of your life. In fact, you know the only reason you've got a nice job, a full belly, shoes, and a roof over your head that keeps the rain offa ya is because 'o you being an idjit about Harley try'n'ta slip inta your skirt," Mabel says loud enough for the entire kitchen to hear. 

"That's enough girls," Karen says. "You're both going to eat your breakfast, then get a shift on that laundry. I set the sheets to soak in bleach when I brought them down." 

"Thank you for that. I guess I should be grateful that Captain and the Sergeant bunk doubled. I lose track of how many sets of sheets I wash each week," Mamie sighs. 

"Mamie! You know better than to talk about anything that happens 'round here. Do you want your walking papers now?" Mrs. Friday snaps.

"No ma'am. I'm sorry, those are just the first pair a brand new shoes I've ever had."

"I will explain such to Mister Stark if your shoes are needed," Edwin Jarvis says soothingly. "I'm quite sure he will make up the loss of any shoes or any other personal item that Master Peter has need of."

"I'm sorry sir. I'm just bein' a dumb Dora about the ruined laundry. I shouldn't be talking about it. Please sir, whomever doesn't get their shoes back, will you please ask the big cheese to help get 'em replaced? This time a year it ain't so bad, but running about in winter time without can cost you toes. My brother's missing two."

"Certainly child, although I'm sure that Mr. Stark is only borrowing the shoes," Edwin reassures. 

"Mrs. Stark has a tailor scheduled this afternoon, and will have shoes for Master Peter tomorrow. Now eat your breakfast. I know you have Mrs. Stark's vacation wardrobe to manage today. We plan to send Irene to help you girls out," Ana says, putting a plate in front of the girl. 

Mrs. Friday gives Ana a sympathetic look. She knows Ana has been fretting since Mamie started working here. If Harley could just leave the house girls alone, heaven forbid what he's been getting up to with _at least_ one of the stable boys. Mr. Stark himself makes sure the house staff has all the rubbers they need after that little issue. Not a bad idea with the way the entire household's moral code runs. The so-called Devilside isn't just an above stairs phenomenon, as they’ve noticed, to their dismay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Three Years Ago**

  
  


As Master Harley has settled into the household and Mr. Coulson introduced Miss Romanov, Edwin has decided that today is a good day to approach his boss in his study, besides, he's been putting off this particular discussion since Master Harley turned seventeen. "Mister Stark? Might I have a moment of your time?"

"What can I help you with Jarvis?" Stark asks, looking at Jarvis in concern. Discussions that start off like this rarely end well in his experience with the Stark family. Mr. Howard Stark wasn't much easier to bring these concerns to. 

"I apologize sir, but it's a rather personal matter. As the household has grown with the additions of Master Harley and Miss Romanov we've had to increase the household staff," he struggles to maintain a professional approach, but also knows to tread carefully with Stark. 

"I'm aware. What's the problem? Is there somebody who isn't fitting in?"

"No sir. Is just that with the newer additions not all being kitchen or scullery maids, I'm concerned about the potential for gossip," Edwin says, trying to approach the subject just right. It's one that could easily set off Mr. Stark's more  _ difficult _ side.

"Is somebody needing a lesson?" he asks, eyes smoldering. 

"Not at this time, sir. I would like to avoid needing to educate the newer additions to your personal household's mannerisms."

"And what precisely are you thinking?" The peculiar glow in Mr. Stark's eyes has Edwin's heart racing. 

"I thought it might be wise to have a wing. Specifically for the family, and only the family. If any of the newer staff are required to be in the family wing, they would be escorted by a more experienced staff member," he suggests, concerned about Mr. Stark's reception of the idea. 

"And what happens in the family wing stays amongst family? Is that the gist?" Tony purrs, while the peculiar glow in his eyes banks itself back towards its normal gleam. 

"Precisely sir," as he's saying this, Mr. Stark quickly walks over and throws open the door to Mrs. Stark's sitting room. 

"Pepper, 'Tasha, oh good, Harleycat too, c'mere," he says holding the door open and talking into the room. "Jarvis had brought up a unique perspective on avoiding an issue."

"What issue? Do I need to get involved with Leonard and Francis again?" Pepper asks as the three join him at the door. 

"No madam. Your last talk seems to have corrected that particular issue, thank you."

"It seems that Jarvis is concerned that some of the staff might be Mrs. Grundy. He's suggesting we make our family wing for the family only," Tony says, trying on the idea in his own words. 

"You  _ were _ lucky it was only Karen who, um,  _ encountered _ you both in the library last week," Pepper says to Tony and Natasha. 

"Precisely the sort of thing that might make it more difficult for Master Harley's introduction to society," Edwin adds diplomatically. 

"The family wing will be off limits. Escorted or trusted staff only," Tony declares. 

"Thank you Sir, Madams, Master," Edwin says relieved the topic went so easily. "Should I have a crew construct a set of doors to set the family wing apart from the rest of the house?"

"Yes please," Pepper says gratefully. 

"Wait. Whose rooms are directly above our wing?" Natasha questions, knowing the house staff's bedrooms are the floors directly above the family bedrooms. 

"So we are able to be easily reached at any time; Karen, Nurse Darcy, Mrs. Friday, Mrs. Jarvis and myself. Everybody with proven discretion," Edwin reassures them, knowing that to Mr. Stark, the word discretion means some method of controlling them. 

"Perfect," Pepper sighs. 

"Okay, thank you ladies, Hellcat, that will be all. Miss me, Mrs. Stark?" Tony asks. 

"Always Mr. Stark," Pepper replies smiling softly as he closes the door on the trio.

"Jarvis, how are you and the Missuses? Are the ladies enjoying that bathroom?" Mr. Stark asks, rapidly changing subjects as only he can. 

"I know Mrs. Friday appreciates that you thought so highly of us to give us a bathroom between just us three," Jarvis says, doing his best to avoid talking about his personal life. 

"It was the least I could do. I didn't want the Mrs. Grundys to catch poor Mrs. Friday walking 'tween the rooms. She's a respectable widow," Tony smirks knowingly. 

"It was a welcomed gift from our employer, and as you know, we will always be grateful to you for it," he says, still trying so hard to avoid that subject. It was hard enough to bring it up once. Mr. Stark just nods and shoos Edwin from his study. 

Mrs. Friday has never been a wife, let alone a widow. Ana had always understood Edwin's past straying from their shared bed. However, when Mrs. Friday joined the household, Edwin wasn't the only one straying from the wedding vows given so long ago. All three finally sat down, at Mrs. Friday's insistence, then went to Mr. Stark for advice. He laughed, and shortly thereafter their bedrooms were temporarily relocated, as they were told it was needed to remodel Master Harley's bathroom. 

When they moved back, they had been gifted a shared private bathroom, instead of the communal one at the end of the floor. It made for a private way for all three to share a bed without the rest of the staff ever seeing Mrs. Friday as anything other than a widow from the great war, now married to her job. She manages the entire household staff, while Edwin is Mr. Stark's butler. As he and Ana had worked for the late Mr. Howard Stark, he has known Mr. Stark since he was Master Anthony, wearing short pants, and therefore is best at reading Mr. Stark's various moods. 


	3. Chapter 3

**PRESENT DAY**

As soon as breakfast is finished, the Captain comes back in with the basket of shoes. "Let me know whose isn't in here, please."

After all was said and done it turns out that Willie was the one who's going shoeless for the morning. 

"You have no idea how much it means that you're not kicking up a ruckus," Steve says, passing the kid some money the boss sent along. "The Missus says she'll tuck an extra penny in everyone's paycheck for the hassle, like she always does when Boss gets a wild hair."

"For a Double Eagle, Boss can take my shoes anyday," Willie says smiling. "This time 'o year barefoot in the gardens is fine." 

As Steve walks back towards the house, Harley hisses from behind the shed door, "Is he gone yet?"

"He is now. Why? You know I've already earned this Double Eagle," Willie teases. 

"A Double Eagle for two bit boots? Nice try. Get your ass in here and earn whatcha been paid. And quickly. Don't know how long afore Bucky'll catch me on the lam again," Harley drags the man into the gardening shed, quickly pushing his suspenders off his shoulders to remove his pants. With the help of the vaseline that Harley doesn't know Tony put in the shed, refusing to resort to spit, he quickly has Willie exactly how he wants and is pounding away. Harley grabs him and roughly pulls until he comes, the squeeze of Willie's orgasm triggering Harley to spill. They both clean up hurriedly, and then light up, their little tradition and, Willie’s pretty certain, half the reason Harley wanders out to find him every few days. Bucky catches up to them soon after.

"Quick, hide my gasper! The warden's found me again," Harley says, quickly stubbing the cherry off his cigarette. 

"Harley, you're going to be late for the judge, and I'll never hear the end of it. If'n Steve complains about you stinking of that butt, I'll be sure you know why that ain't happening ever again," Bucky growls, slapping Harley on the back of his head. "Git changed. Now."

Harley heads for the house, as Willie goes back to taking care of the garden. He's sure that the big cabbage will make it his way eventually to thank him personally for the loan of the shoes, once he hears who lent ‘em. The boss always makes time with him right in sight of Missus Natasha's window. The thought 'o her looking out and catching them always boils his blood. 

Early in the afternoon, everyone's mood is greatly improved by the news of an extra nickle coming on payday, even if they know that was all Steve. The household's back into the rhythm of its usual controlled chaos. 

Without Mrs. Friday or Ana to fuss at them, they can gossip as much as they want, while they string up the wet sheets on the line.

"With Harley buyin' them bunk beds, I'm gonna have another fourteen sets a sheets to wash each week. Why two boys need three beds between 'em, I'll never know," Mamie fusses. 

"Least most 'o the house doubles up," Ethyl says pragmatically in a strong Irish accent. "If all 'o the house slept single, like my last place, it'd be worse. Even the big cheese shares with the missus. That didn't'a happen at the Franklin's"

"If only the Captain and the Sergeant didn't pair off. I wouldn't mind try'n'ta trip up either one and beat'em to the floor," Mamie sighs.

"If you were in any other house...just flipping up your skirt for the Cat they way you keep doin' shoulda gotten you the door," Irene giggles and snaps a wet pillowcase towards Mamie. 

"I swear, I've yet to see two men slap their own palms so much, you'd think the one woulda caught the other out by now," Ethyl states, matter-of-factly.

"Every other day, Karen finds 'em sheets all wadded up, either stiff or sticky, it's a wonder they're not either one of them blind," sniffs Irene. 

"Why, you think Mamie can't recognize what she's scrubbing offa them sheets on an almost daily basis?" Ethyl sniggers.

"Ethyl! I never thought I'd hear that from you," Irene squeals.


	4. Chapter 4

After the staff eat Sunday dinner, the girls are relaxing, grateful to have made it through another week. Nobody ever thought a simple laundry maid job would be as interesting as every job with the Boss seems to be. Tomorrow being Monday, they'll have a full day's work. Mrs. Friday makes sure everybody gets a half day once a week, and a day or two per month off. 

After church, they change the house staff's linens, throwing open windows to catch what little breeze there is as they go. They'll wash them all tomorrow, this was their last task for the day. All three are lazing about the room, skirts hitched and sleeves rolled up to combat the warmth. They've been hearing people go up and down the stairs, so they don't react at yet another pair of boots until Harley knocks and pushes open the door. He chuckles as Ethyl and Irene smooth down their skirts. 

"Ethyl, Irene, I don't wanna give you two the bum's rush, but either you skedaddle or you're gonna be makin' time here in Mamie's room with us," Harley announces with a Cheshire cat grin. “The more the merrier, but I’m not sure I got time to knock boots and make ya all happy yet tonight.” He nods his head at the door in clear indication of his preference. They giggle and head out the door. 

Harley eyes Mamie as he walks closer to the bed, that same mix of lust and regret that pools in the pit of his stomach and always compels him back up three flights of stairs to her room at the top of the house. He's glad she's happy and healthy now, but hates what happened early Spring. Even though it all turned out for the best, he still wishes that it might have been different. 

\--------

Harley is just heading back to the house from Willie's shed when the kerfuffle catches his attention. A woman, beaten nearly to death is all but collapsed on the kitchen stairs with Karen and one of the gate guards hovering over her. 

"Harley, I'm sorry," she moans. "I didn't know where else to go, I need help, please …"

He took another look and recognized a girl he'd tupped in a Harlem alley a few months back, while Tony was inside with Fury talking to her boss about some business. He had an itch, listening to the hot licks of sound from Louis’s trumpet and she was willing, if completely inexperienced. 

"I'm so sorry," she moans again, flinching as Karen touches a bruise. "I was gonna tell you about the baby, I swear."

"Baby?" he squeaks. Sure enough, she's looking a little rounded, and there’s blood on her skirts. "Get a runner out to the Doc. Somebody get Darcy down here," he announces to the guard. The guard opens the kitchen door, demanding Darcy, then takes off following the order he's given. 

Mamie. He finally remembers her name, and lifts her head and shoulders slightly. 

"Mamie?" he asks her softly. 

She tries to nod and gasps a bit. "Yesss," she hisses, shifting to be as comfortable as she can. 

"I kept getting sick, so boss fired me for being… ya know. I went home, and as soon as my da figured it out, he saw red. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. I'm so sorry," she whispers around grunts and places a hand on her stomach, grimacing in pain.

"The baby's mine?" he says, sounding shocked, knowing how much the girls he's usually with get around. 

"You're the only one," she sighs. They both know she could be lying. She wouldn’t be the first woman to try to pin a kid on a Stark, but Harley looks into her deep brown eyes and he knows she’s not. He knows she’s not because the regret there is so sharp it could cut. 

"I've got ya, it's ok Mammie. I'll make it all ok," he promises wildly, and she huffs a breath because nothing is ever going to be okay ever again.

Darcy arrives, and takes over, ordering ice and towels and hot water. With her handling Mamie and ordering him away, he starts in on the rest of what needs to be done. His baby. She was carrying his baby. He goes to the study to find Tony and fill him in on what's happened. 

"Course she can heal up here. Hellcat, you know we take care of our own," Tony reassures the boy. Neither one of them mention that it was just an alley, that she could be lying, that they don’t  _ do _ this, they don’t pick up strays from the gutter. Tony just looks at him with steady eyes and answers the panic Harley feels rising up inside him. His baby. It was  _ his _ . 

Tony's the one who leads the way back to the bloody scene and insists that Mamie's put in a bed on the staff floor. Harley stares down at all that blood, at Mamie’s twisted face, as Tony makes sure that Doc Banner knows he can have anything he needs. 

Harley doesn’t remember too much of what happened that afternoon. What he does know, what he can remember, is a red rampage. He tells Bucky everything he can remember about the night and the alley, months back, where he’d met Mamie. Bucky recognizes his description of the alley where he'd kept an eye on things. Bucky quickly grabs a couple of trusted men and they head over to the place the girl worked at. Bucky lets Harley beat the miserable excuse of a two-gun back alley boss, until the man gives up Mamie’s home address. Then, Bucky puts the man down like the dumb animal he is. With red-stained hands, they find the girl's home and settle in to wait.

That night, after her pa finishes his supper, he steps out to hunt a drink. Instead, he finds an alley, and an enraged Hellcat. Harley doesn't quite remember exactly what all he did to the man, but he fondly remembers the pain in his face as the light in his eyes faded. Harley's only regret in the whole matter is that he couldn’t make it take longer. The man that killed his child should have hurt more. Hurt like Mamie does, like Harley hurts.  _ His _ baby.

Harley doesn't remember a family before the Starks. He sees how parents treat their children, listens to Steve and Bucky talk about their childhoods, and part of him wishes he could have had that. Part of him had sworn, long before, that  _ any _ child of his  _ would _ have that. Mamie's pa stole that from him, and nobody steals from a Stark. Nobody steals from a Stark, and lives to enjoy what they took. 

He heads home, to check on Mamie, clean up, and tell Tony what he'd done, how he’d balanced accounts. Mamie was asleep, but alive, Darcy at her bedside. Tony was a little worried about how Fury would take the news, as the girl's boss was one of his associates. He makes Harley wait, shifting in front of his desk, as he places the call, his eyes dark. Harley thinks of how much he might have cost Tony, today, and shifts his weight, because he doesn’t care. His baby. It was his. Books had to be balanced. No one steals from a Stark. His hands twitch, and his head aches, but it was his baby. Books had to be balanced.

“Nah, we’re good, my cat never liked him anyway," Fury drawls, which makes Tony chuckle and ask after the cat’s health.

Harley guesses Fury knows the Devil's gotta take his due. Harley knows who cooks Fury's books, how Coulson insists on a Stork Fund for any little surprises, insists it be open to any of the men, fights with both Tony and Fury when they object. Babies are the kind of blessings that can sew a man's lips shut before a judge and jury. 

Harley's baby. Harley's baby. His. It was his.

\--------

Harley kisses Mamie gently, while still insistent she let him in. She easily parts her lips and they kiss, tongues dancing with each other until both are somewhat out of breath. Harley starts unbuttoning her blouse starting at her throat, so she pulls his shirt from his pants and begins at the bottom of his shirt. There's a spot in the middle where their hands tangle and they both nearly giggle. Finally they've removed their shirts, Mamie in her liberty bodice, and Harley in his undershirt. Mamie quickly unbuttons her skirt enough to wiggle it off her hips, as Harley starts unbuttoning her bodice, while kissing and sucking a love bite onto her throat. Once she's free of her skirt she grabs his shirt to pull it over his head. 

"Eager Mammie?" he jokes. 

"For you, Cat? I'm always eager."

He lets her pull his undershirt off as he gets the last button on her bodice. She pulls her slip and knickers off quickly as the bodice pulls her stockings down to her boots. Harley kneels and unbuttons first her boots, then his own, kicking off his boots when he stands back up. She unbuttons his pants and pushes both his pants and underwear down, then tries to pull them both into bed. 

"Mammie, I'm still wearing my socks," he says, laughing. 

"Don't care Cat. I needs you. Now, please," her eyes are wide and dark brown, the pupils widening as she looks at him. 

He quickly scrambles into bed, but takes the time to pull off his garters and stockings. She just laughs. They quickly resume kissing and both pairs of hands roam one another's body. Harley trails kisses down her neck and chest until he reaches a breast, then latches on her nipple, flicking it with a tongue. 

"Lawd, Cat," she gasps. "I don't know where you picked up that trick, but don't stop."

He huffs in amusement but doesn't stop until she's clenching her hands, one in his hair and the other by his shoulder. Even then, all he does is change which nipple he's got his mouth on. She moans as he starts on the other, and he slips a hand to her thighs, which she gladly parts. She's nearly dripping he notes happily, and he presses a finger into her, earning a startled squeak that quickly becomes an excited noise when he finds that spot with another finger. He keeps on petting at and suckling her until she starts panting and moaning, then adds another finger to the one pressed inside her. He crooks his fingers just so and she tenses around him, squeezing tightly. He keeps on until she relaxes into the bed. 

"Cat, that was perfect," she says smiling, leaning up to kiss him deeply. She then pushes on his upper arm until he is flat on his back, "Your turn."

"I wanna go inside you. You've still got plenty'a rubbers, right?"

"Yes Cat. But I wanna play a little first. One'a the girls was talking and I'd like to try sump'n," she says smiling hopefully at him. 

"Ok, I'm all yours Mammie," he says happy enough to let her play. 

Anything to make her smile, she's had so little to be happy about in her life, if he can make her happy and let her play in their bed, why not? She leans down and licks him from root to tip, then sucks as much of him as she's able. 

"Christ Mammie, who told you about this!" he gasps startled. This is something he'd never thought she'd know of, or be willing to actually do. 

"Mabel talked about it," she pops off him just long enough to say, then goes back to seeing just how much of him she can fit. 

She's just about figured out how to fit all of him when he groans, "Ya gotta stop."

She releases him sitting up to smile at him, and he grabs her face, kissing her so deeply she's due he can taste himself in her mouth. 

"Rubber. Now. I can't wait to be buried inside ya," he announces once he finally stops the kiss. 

She passes one to him and he rolls it over himself, then checks to make sure she's still wet. 

"I think you're wetter than you were earlier," he groans as he positions them, her on top. "Did you like tasting me?"

She nods smiling as they line themselves up, and they both groan as she sinks down, stopping after she's fully seated. He grows impatient, thrusting up and pushing her slightly off balance. She giggles seating herself properly again, then begins to ride him, eventually leaning back to place pressure on that same place that Cat's fingers always find. The one that makes her see stars. He notices this and slides one of his hand from her hips to in between her thighs. She moans and tightens again, then speeds her pace. He rubs his fingers in circles and she tightens around him even more. Grabbing firmly with the hand on her hip he thrusts up in time with her movements. That tips her over the edge, clamping down tightly and arching her back even further. He thrusts into her tightness until he follows her over the edge, letting go of the control he was barely holding onto. 

After they both come back to earth, they rearrange, ending up with his head resting on her chest as he spreads his fingers across her still flat belly. "If'n I could find a voodoo man to raise your pa, I'd do it. Just to watch him die again and again," Harley says in a soft voice.

"He's gone now, and I thank you and the good Lord for that, even if I hate the thoughta you dirtying your hands for me."

"It was for you, but it was also for our baby. I'd gladly take on anybody you can name if it gave me back my boy. Or my little girl, either's more'n I'd ever dreamed of havin'." 

The room sits in peaceful silence for a minute, both taking solace in the fact that even with what they've lost, they still have moments like this, stolen minutes to remember what almost was, what might have been. Mamie knows she will always have a piece of Harley’s heart beating in her chest, and she suspects the same is true for Harley, because for all his tomcat ways, he comes back to her, still.

"You'd be a great mammie, I know you still regret losing our baby. It weren't even your fault," he looks up and smiles at her, then kisses her gently. "I should go. Mr. Stark'll be looking for me an’ I still have to throw on my glad rags."

They both clean up and dress, trading kisses, and he slips back down the stairs. Ethyl and Irene rejoin her.

"I see how it is. We gonna get kicked to the curb every time he visits?" Ethyl teases.

"You knew that was gonna happen when yous decided to bunk in here."

"Yeah, we knew, but you have this big feather bed," Irene giggles. 

"Plus, you were all lonesome. Ya know you love it with all 'o us snuggly n warm," Ethyl says suggestively. 

"Well you two know how much I hate having to wash extra sets'a sheets," Mamie giggles. 

"I got us a bit'a hooch, wanna have a snort, then get the bed really messy? Make it worth the bother'a laundry?" Irene offers a flask. Mamie sniggers, then takes a swallow and passes it, the three sharing until it was empty. 

"Does Cat know you get up to your own share 'o catting 'bout?" Ethyl asks, just tipsy enough to let down her guard, as she's unbuttoning Irene's blouse. 

"You know that Cat ain't never gonna be able to slap a handcuff on me. The law wouldn't allow for that, not even DI Rhodes could save me from a lynching if'n Cat even tried. He and I are both free, so's long as we don't go hurtin' one 'nother on purpose."

"Would he really have tumbled all three of us?" Irene asks half intrigued as both girls start in on Mamie's blouse buttons. 

"He'd'a done it, and it woulda been the bees knees. If'n yous two ever decide to start pettin' on a gent, that is." 

"Let's face it Mamie, the Mrs. Grundys 'o the world don't play no attention to a couple a girls actin' like each other's roommate. As soon as a gent gets his name linked up with ours, there goes any hope 'o ever having a normal life," sighs Ethyl. Mamie knows Ethyl eventually wants to find a nice Catholic boy and settle down, but for now she's got a job that gives her room, board, and good wages to boot. She just has to let all the crazy in the house roll off her back. 

And Mamie knows Irene’s whole life story, too. Whisky is a great revealer, and Irene likes to sip and and talk. Mamie loves to listen. Irene has decided she'll never settle down with a man. She was the eldest, and after she turned four, the ladies at the cat house said she might as well be in the room for the next birth. That way she'll grow up knowing exactly what all the business involves. She watched her mama go through with two births that survived, and four more that either miscarried or didn't survive their first week of life. She was fourteen and heard the madam talking with her mama about her starting night on the job. The next morning, while the house was sleeping off a night of work, she walked to the house of The Butcher of New York, and begged for any job they had. At least if it turned out that her job would be bedding The Butcher himself she'd know who fathered her children. Laundry maid isn't fun, but it's honest, and she's never had to flip up her skirts for any man. She has to play stupid about a whole lot she knows, but as long as she's smart enough to keep her trap shut, she has room, board, uniform, and a wage that lets her enjoy some of the small things she does miss from the cat house. Like perfume and fancy underthings. 

"Irene, thank ya," Mamie says, just a touch tipsy. "I tried that thing you suggested."

"No!" Ethyl squeaks, not even believing Irene knew to suggest anything like it.

"How'd it go? And how far'd you let it go?"

"Cat stopped me, but based on how he acted, it was berries," Mamie responds smiling. 

"He stopped you?" Irene asks astounded. 

"Yeah, he had other plans."

"Only as long as his other plans involved a rubber," Irene says, half seriously shaking a finger at Mamie. She knows the silly girl isn't always the best about making sure her Cat wears them. 

"Yes, Ma, we was careful," Mamie teases back. "I ain't making you an Auntie anytime soon, promise."

"Good. Because if you complain 'bout the sheets, you don't wanna deal with diapers. Be glad the Master n Missus are adopting rather than havin' their own," Ethyl says plainly. "I swear the Franklin's always had at least one kid in diapers." She shudders, "Even the stable boys's clothes don't stink as much as diapers."

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! :) Come join us in the comment section if you like it, but no throwing plot bunnies at us, as you can clearly see, the ones we have are breeding already.
> 
> Here's the song the title refers to, for those of you who want it: https://youtu.be/OQofJrwRUjo


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